


Acknowledging Angels

by litbynosun



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: All my fics deal with neurodivergence, Autistic Cecil, Depression, Gift Fic, Josie appears only briefly, M/M, Neurodiversity, Vaguly depressing neurodivergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 08:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7162793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litbynosun/pseuds/litbynosun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of connected vignettes on the thundering passage of time, kitchen table dancing, and the apocalypse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Ending Will Be Broadcast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SparkleMoose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkleMoose/gifts).



> This is a birthday present for my friend sparklemoose, who writes excellent poetry. Each vignette is based around one of his poems.

Carlos wakes to the clacking of keys, Cecil hunched over the typewriter in the bed beside him.  
“Do you think I can acknowledge Josie’s tall friends when the world is ending?”  
Carlos’s mind is blank for a minute.  
“What?”  
“Will the angels that are not real become real?”  
“Wait, go back. When the world is ending?”  
Cecil nods, fingertip circling on the f key.  
Carlos knows better by now than to ask why philosophical questions about the apocalypse are being posed to him in the middle of the night.  
“I am a scientist, not a theologian,” he says instead, “and science says that people need sleep.”  
“Someone is always needed to narrate destruction.” It is a whisper. “Until the transmission is cut.”


	2. kitchen table dancing

After another disastrous experiment ruins his latest pair of sneakers, Carlos reluctantly heads to the shoe department of Penney’s. He’s debating whether he wants red or blue shoes when a glint of light catches his eye. It’s jewelry- golden, sparkling anklets. Carlos grabs the closest pair of sneakers (he finds out later that they’re green, which makes his choice a moot point anyway) and buys the anklet in Cecil’s size.   


Cecil loves it. He puts it on, sticks his legs up into the air so he can tilt his feet back and forth to see the shine in the sunlight.

On impulse, Carlos kicks off his own shoes, moves the papers and typewriter on the kitchen table to the countertop. He pulls Cecil up after him, laughing, and twirls him around on the smooth wood. 

“Remember when I told you about the end of the world?”  


“Yes, I do.”  


“Maybe - just maybe - I’ll sing instead of speak.”  



	3. wolf jaws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Carlos has a conversation and realizes something important.

Carlos understands that he will never understand.   
He has tea with Josie sometimes, says, “I am worried about Cecil.”  
“Yes,” she says, “Yes,” and then nothing more.

Carlos understands that he will never understand.   
He wonders sometimes how much of Cecil’s past is forgotten, how much never existed, and how much is buried so deep it’s past retrieval. 

Carlos understands that he will never understand.   
There is a particular type of silence that comes over Cecil sometimes. Not the silence of no words, but the silence of too many, a lifetime of speech that radio broadcasts can hardly reveal. 

Carlos understands that he will never understand.  
He would like to be the one to hold Cecil together, like someone in a book might do. But as he watches from that desert otherworld, he knows that he is too far away, and that only some of the fractures are able to be healed. He knows that some of the fractures he could have prevented, but there’s no use wondering what else he could have done.

Carlos understands that he will never understand.   
There is a particular look Cecil gets in his eyes sometimes, one that Carlos knows is there but can’t see behind the wall of unbraided hair. Carlos lets him hide in the nook beside the washing machine, and microwaves a NVCR mug full of milk.

Carlos understands that he will never understand.   
They talk late at night, the two of them. There are questions Cecil doesn’t ask. Sometimes Carlos wishes he would. There are questions Cecil doesn’t answer. Carlos is curious, but does not want to know.   



	4. screaming: a lesson in pleasantness

Carlos is a scientist; he has counted every scar, without knowing that he was doing so. He knows when there are new ones - not because of their angry redness (what a cliche, Cecil would say), but because there are three, six, nine more than there were before. Cecil rubs Vitamin E oil on them, but they do not go away, not completely.

Sometimes in the desert otherworld he watched as Cecil took deep breaths. Sometimes what Carlos assumed was a scream came out before being stuffed away again. Sometimes in the desert otherworld he watched the furtive motions towards the knife drawer, as though Cecil knew someone was watching. He always called, right then. Sometimes the time got messy and Cecil was in the middle of a show. Sometimes he watched Cecil pull out his phone, say “Carlos!” as though he was happy to hear from him.

They are sprawled lazily on the couch when Cecil sits up suddenly, thwacking Carlos on the side of the head with his limp wrist. “Cecil?” says Carlos, anxious. There is a pause. “Yes,” says Cecil, “Yes, that’s me.”


	5. Gentle Things

This is something about soft touches on arms during bowling, the way the light shines on his hair in the morning. 

This is something about silence, a selfie taken and stared at, fingertips tracing the curve of his own nose, lips, eyes. 

This is something about hair braiding, nail painting, woodcarving, something about eating Josie’s muffins, something about closing the curtains they picked out together. 


	6. so you wrote a love poem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just three conversations.

“Remember when I told you about the end of the world?”  


“Of course.”  


… 

“I see it sometimes.”  


“See what?”  


“That dark planet.”  


“I know.”  


…

“Someday radio won’t be enough to save us.”  


“You’re morbid today.”  


“No, no, listen.”  


“I am listening.”  


“Someday, it won’t be enough.”  


“Well, we’ll just have to wait and see.”  



End file.
